


A Perfect Family

by somehowunbroken



Series: Kids'verse [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-10
Updated: 2010-09-10
Packaged: 2017-10-11 15:51:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/114057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somehowunbroken/pseuds/somehowunbroken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well, when you write an mpreg story, you pretty much have to follow it up with a story that has a baby in it, right? Umm... yeah. Sequel to Unforeseen Side Effects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Perfect Family

Evan felt the adrenaline rush through him and took a deep, calming breath. His fists clenched on the legs of his pants as he stared straight ahead, readying himself for whatever as coming next. He could handle this. He’d been through some seriously crazy shit in the Pegasus galaxy. He could totally handle this.

“Evan?”

David was looking at him, curiosity turning to concern, and Evan pasted a smile on his face that David could probably see straight through. “Hey.”

David cautiously smiled back. “Are you okay?”

Evan blew out a breath. Decidedly not. “Yeah.”

“You’re lying,” David responded matter-of-factly, and yeah, he was. “Please stop freaking out. You’re making me freak out, and that’s not good.”

Evan smiled a little more broadly, reaching forward and taking David’s hand in his own “I’m trying,” he admitted, brushing his thumb over David’s palm.

David rolled his eyes. “This isn’t going to help you freak out less, y’know.”

“Probably not,” Evan agreed. “I’d still like to be here.”

David’s smile softened. “I know,” he said, turning his hand to hold Evan’s.

“Ready?”

“Sure,” Evan offered. He could do this.

Which was good, because Carson walked in about fifteen seconds later, gloves snapping into place. “Good afternoon, Major, Doctor,” he said brightly, stepping to the side of David’s bed. “We’re going to take a look at the wee one, okay?”

“Sounds good,” Evan said, smiling at David again. “Light it up, Doc.”

Carson flicked a few switches on the machine next to him, talking as he worked. “I’m not sure how familiar you gentlemen are with this process,” he began, picking up a wand with a suction cup-looking thing on the end. “I’m going to spread some gel on your back, Doctor, and then I’ll use this instrument to get a picture inside.”

Evan frowned. “Isn’t it supposed to go on his stomach?”

Carson beamed at him. “In a normal pregnancy, yes,” he responded. “However, in this case, Dr. Parrish is carrying the child in a small-” He cut off as Evan’s face twisted. He didn’t know the details of how, exactly, David had ended up pregnant, and he honestly didn’t want to hear the specifics of how everything was working inside. Carson modified his answer. “We’ll get a better view this way.”

“Okay,” Evan said, shrugging. David nodded and rolled onto his side, facing the small screen attached to the monitor. Carson flicked at some more switches, spread some gel on David’s back, and moved the wand over the area. A picture popped up o the screen, and Evan held his breath, waiting for Carson to locate the baby.

David gasped and reached out a hand to touch the screen. “Wow,” he said and Evan squinted a little, turned his head sideways, and – oh, shit that _was_ the baby, wasn’t it? He could sort of see it now, could resolve squiggles and spots into hands and feet and a rough torso shape. Sure, there were some wiggly bits that he couldn’t quite make out, but that was definitely a baby.

Evan reached for David’s hand and held it tightly, his eyes never leaving the screen. “Wow,” he echoed.

“Hmm,” Carson said from beside Evan, and Evan whipped his head around to ask what was wrong, because Carson saying _hmm_ during a medical test was never a good sign.

“Doc?” Evan choked out. “Is something – what’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure anything’s wrong, per se,” Carson responded hesitantly. “Let me see if I can get a clearer – ah, here we go.”

Evan turned back to the screen. Carson had moved the wand, and the picture was different now. Evan frowned; it still looked like a baby, still looked fine, and Evan found himself counting its fingers and toes as best he could, coming up with the right number. He opened his mouth to say something when the picture jumped again, and suddenly another hand appeared, another foot, and Evan was gaping at the screen.

“Please tell me that’s more than one kid,” he said to Carson. “Please tell me that my kid’s gonna have a twin, not that he’s going to have an extra arm and leg.” Anything was possible in the Pegasus Galaxy.

Carson chuckled. “Two, yes,” he confirmed. “I had wondered,” he admitted more quietly, almost as if talking to himself. “With the way the serum was formulated…”

David, who hadn’t yet said a word to this revelation, suddenly spoke up. “Twins?” He sounded slightly awed, slightly scared. Evan gripped his hand more tightly.

“Aye,” Carson said kindly, patting David on the leg. “Congratulations, lads.”

-0-

“As near as we can figure, it’s a side effect of the serum that is responsible for Dr. Parish’s condition,” Carson explained later, once David was dressed in his own clothing again and they’d had a chance to talk about it. (Talking about it had really been the two of them sitting in stunned silence, one of them occasionally saying “Twins?” in a voice that made it clear that, yeah, this was just getting weirder by the day.)

“This whole thing is a side effect of that drug,” Sheppard pointed out. (David had been right. Sheppard had been surprisingly cool about the whole thing, though he hadn’t mentioned Mitchell. That was fine by Evan. He didn’t need that particular image confirmed for him.)

“Yes, well, that too,” Carson breezed on. “Its purpose is to ensure conception; we already figured that out. It seems likely that when both parties are male, two children are conceived, for two main reasons. One, there are technically two fathers, which might lead to two babies. Secondly, I imagine that the risk to any fetus carried by a man would be more vulnerable. The male body was never meant to protect a child, so the risk of losing it would be much higher. With two fetuses, the chance for one to actually survive is much greater.”

Eva swallowed shallowly. “They’re not both going to make it?” he asked, and his voice sounded strangled to his own ears. He’d just found out that one baby was actually two, and even though he was still adjusting to that (well, to the whole situation, really) he was already ridiculously in love with both kids.

“I think they’ll both be fine,” Carson hurried to assure him. “We have a lot of resources available here that don’t exist out in the rest of the galaxy. We’ll keep a careful eye on everyone involved, Major.”

Evan let out a sigh of relief. “So, does this mean that one kid is biologically mine, and the other is biologically David’s?”

“It’s difficult to tell at this point,” Carson said. “I would assume not, but of course, I can’t be certain without more testing.” He focused on David. “I can take samples if you’d like,” he offered. “The tests wouldn’t take that long, and there would be minimal risk of damage to the little ones.”

David tugged on Evan’s hand. “It doesn’t matter,” he said firmly. “These are our kids either way.” He glanced at Evan, biting his lip. “It doesn’t matter, does it?” he asked more quietly, and Evan just shook his head. David was right.

“There’s another matter,” Carson said, shuffling his papers around. Everyone turned to look at him, and Sheppard drawled, “There better not be another kid in there you’re not telling us about, Carson.”

“Mercy, no,” Carson replied, grinning. “It appears that the wee ones’ rate of growth is accelerated.”

“Accelerated how?” Evan glanced at David’s stomach and thought back to his sister’s pregnancy. It had been three months since David had gotten pregnant. How much had Stacie been showing at three months?

Carson shook his head. “I’m not sure, to be honest,” he admitted, and okay, that wasn’t comforting. “Dr. Parrish is technically in his third month, but the babes are bigger than they should be at this stage, more developed. I’d say they’re as developed as if they were about five months.”

“So are we going to have mammoth kids on our hands, or are we moving that due date up?” Sheppard asked after a minute’s silence.

“The latter, I believe,” Carson said with a faint grin. “If the rate of growth stays constant, we’re looking at another two months, perhaps ten weeks. I’d like to suggest that Dr. Parrish come in every few days for a checkup, so we can keep an eye on things.”

David nodded. “We can set up a schedule,” he offered. “I’m not going offworld any more, so I’ve got a lot of free time on my hands.”

-0-

Evan was busily trying to put a crib together while thinking about how, exactly, he was going to present this to his family when the door to his new, expanded quarters opened and Sheppard walked in.

“Need a hand?” he drawled as Evan cursed and dropped one of the bars again. It rolled away and went somewhere under the bed, and Evan jerked his head toward it. Sheppard leaned down and patted around awkwardly, coming over to hold the bar in place as Evan screwed the railing on top.

“Thanks,” Evan said, setting the newly completed side panel against the side of the bed. “Did you need me for something?”

“Nope,” Sheppard said, leaning back against the bed.

“Oh,” was all Evan could think to say.

They sat in awkward silence for a little while, until Evan shrugged and went back to attempting to put the crib together. David was in the infirmary. Carson was checking in with him every other day; it had been every three days, at first, but David now looked like he was about seven months, so Carson was seeing him more often. Sheppard silently handed Evan pieces and held things in place as he worked, and the crib came together neatly, much more quickly for the help. Evan stood back and surveyed it.

“Not bad,” Sheppard finally spoke up. “Listen, Lorne, I’ve been thinking about how to phrase all this to the SGC.”

Evan turned, surprised, “You haven’t told them yet?”

Sheppard winced. “Um, not exactly.”

Evan waited, and Sheppard breathed out before continuing. “Look, I’m not turning you in,” he said finally. “I know what it’s – I’ve been-”

“David said as much,” Evan cut him off. Sheppard looked relieved.

“Well, yeah, he would know. Apparently McKay has a big mouth.” He grimaced and Evan grinned; this wasn’t news to him. “But I have to tell them something, and ‘aliens made them do it’ would explain the pregnant part, but not the living together thing.”

Evan bristled. “I’m not moving out.”

“Nope,” Sheppard agreed. “I’m just not gonna tell them that part.”

Evan blinked in surprise. “That’s… you don’t have to lie for me, sir.”

Sheppard rolled his eyes. “Of course I don’t. And it’s not lying, it’s… carefully edited truth.” He shot Evan a grin, which Evan returned. “So don’t mention it around the SGC, okay?”

Evan nodded. “Thanks, sir.”

“Don’t mention it,” Sheppard grinned back at him. “Let’s get that other crib together, huh?”

-0-

Five months and eight days after the visit to M94-028, David woke up with a groan in the middle of the night. Evan was awake in an instant.

“What is it?” he asked, keeping his voice low and calm. Carson had told them that it would be any day now.

“Infirmary,” David said, screwing his face up. “I’m pretty sure that was a contraction.”

Evan tapped on his radio as he helped David from the bed. “Dr. Beckett,” he called over the private channel. “You’ll be needed in the infirmary in about three minutes.”

“Already there, Major,” Carson replied briskly. “The wee ones are on their way, then?”

“Looks like it,” Evan said as he helped David pull up his stretchy pants. He was thankful that he’d taken to sleeping in clothing, because it saved them a little extra time.

David’s face was a constant contortion as they walked to the transporter and were whisked into the infirmary. As soon as they entered, nurses were easing David onto a gurney and changing him out of his clothing and into a dressing gown. Carson came in a moment later, and Evan stepped back as the doctor passed.

“Everything looks fine,” he assured them a moment later. “The little ones are in good health, and they’re quite developed enough to be born at this point.”

Evan let out a sigh of relief that was quickly cut of by David’s groan. “Doc?” Evan asked anxiously, reaching out to take David’s hand-

-and David was squeezing, holy shit, and he was _strong_. Evan gritted his teeth and sat through it, until David was blinking up at him and letting go.

“Sorry,” he said weakly, and laid back against the pillows. Evan smiled and smoothed his hair with one hand, flexing the other where David couldn’t see it. Stacie had broken Matt’s hand with their first kid, and she was nowhere near as strong as David, who was about to deliver two at once.

It was over quickly, more quickly than Evan thought it would be; he thought of his mother’s stories about how long she’d been in labor with him, of waiting in the hospital for almost a day before Stacie had finally had Connor, but they were in the infirmary for just over three hours when Evan heard a high-pitched shriek from the other end of the bed. David laid back against the pillow and looked at Evan. “Check,” he said, letting go of his battered hand. “Fingers, toes, check.”

Carson was already handing him a cloth-covered blob, and Evan took it from him almost mechanically. Then the blob moved, and the blanket fell away, and Evan was looking down into his child’s face.

“Oh,” he breathed out. “David. Wow.”

“Boy or girl?” David asked, and Evan lifted the blanket away from the baby before tucking it back in securely.

“Girl,” he said softly. “She has your nose.”

“Poor thing,” David grinned, then gasped. “Okay, little girl, sibling’s coming.”

Evan reluctantly handed his daughter off to a nurse, who took her to the other side of the room for weighing and measuring. He focused his attention back of David, who was sweating and swearing and wow, he hadn’t known that David even knew those words. Three good pushes later and Evan was being handed another tiny bundle.

“Boy,” he reported, smiling at David. “A boy and a girl.”

“Perfect family,” David said softly, laying back into the pillow and smiling up at Evan. He held his arms out, and Evan laid the baby there, stepping back and looking around. He spotted his daughter across the room – his _daughter_ – and walked across, standing hesitantly beside the nurse.

“Can I?” he asked, motioning to the newborn. The nurse smiled and swaddled her back up, handing her over with smooth, sure movements.

The nurses were busily cleaning David up and weighing the little boy when Evan returned. He waited as David was transferred to a new bed before he sat down on its edge, staring into the baby’s face.

“You lied.” David’s voice came from Evan’s left. He was sitting forward, looking at their daughter. “She does not have my nose.”

Evan smiled. “Sure she does,” he replied. “It’s just proportional. She’s tiny, so’s her nose. Give it time.” David just laughed.

At the sound, the little girl opened her eyes, and Evan stared into orbs the color of his own. She blinked a few times and shut them again, snuggling into the crook of Evan’s arm, and Evan found himself blinking a few times, too.

A nurse returned with their son, and David gratefully accepted the small bundle. They spent time pointing out features on both children, Evan’s jawline and David’s cheekbones and soft, downy hair so dark that it hadn’t come from either of them – “Most babies have it,” Carson had assured them, “it’ll fall out soon” – and agreed that the children were, somehow, biologically both of theirs. Evan shrugged it off; if David could get pregnant in the first place, why wouldn’t the kids have DNA from both of them?

“I need to fill out these birth certificates,” Carson said from somewhere off to the side, and David and Evan both looked up, focusing on something other than their tiny, perfect family for the first time in hours. “Do you have names chosen, or shall I leave it blank for now?”

Evan looked at the baby sleeping in his arms. “Angela Marie,” he said softly.

“Robert Samuel,” David said from his side. They’d discussed names, of course, but hadn’t settled; since they hadn’t known what gender the babies would be, they’d really only batted suggestions around. They’d both hoped for a girl; Angela was Evan’s mother’s name, and Marie was David’s, and it seemed appropriate to name a daughter after two strong women. Robert had been Evan’s grandfather, who had taught him what it meant to balance his artistic side with a military mind; Samuel was an uncle of David’s who had given him his first summer job – tending the garden when he was eight.

“Lovely,” Carson said, and Evan could hear the smile in his voice. “What are you listing as their surname?”

They’d talked about this, too, but hadn’t come to a conclusion; Evan wanted to hyphenate their names, but David had just rolled his eyes every time he brought it up and said that they should have Evan’s name. He was, he’d joked, the mother in this relationship, and children should bear their father’s name. Right now, though, Evan would agree to anything David wanted.

“David?” he asked softly, and David smiled over at him. “It’s up to you.”

David settled Robert carefully into one arm and reached the other hand up to rest on Evan’s forearm, just below Angela’s head. “Lorne,” he said to Carson, his eyes on Evan’s. “Angela and Robert Lorne.”

Evan smiled back, leaning to settle next to David on the small bed as he heard Carson walk out. They gazed in wonder at their children, staring the wide-eyed, open look of new parents, until Carson poked his heard in again. “Plenty of aunties and uncles out here waiting to meet the wee ones,” he said, smile evident in his voice. “Are you ready for the hordes?”

“Can you send them in a few at a time?” Evan asked. “I don’t think all of Atlantis will fit in all at once. It’d get pretty uncomfortable.”

Carson chuckled and backed out.

David grabbed Evan’s forearm again as Carson let, leaning in as they heard the doctor talking outside the door, probably organizing some sort of rotation of visitors. “I’d change my name, too, you know,” he said softly, and Evan could only stare at him, stunned, as the smile crept its way across his face. It was all he could think about as visitor after visitor entered, cooed over the newborns, and left.

Evan and David, Angela and Robert. Lornes, all of them. A family.

It was perfect.


End file.
